Nothing Else Matters
by greendaypumpkin
Summary: When Dean is kidnapped Sam must race to find him. Will he succeed and what will be left of Dean? WARNING: mentions sexual assault and torture.
1. Chapter 1

**Nothing Else Matters**

**Disclaimer: **Hard as I try they're still not mine

**Warning: **Mentions of sexual assault and torture

**Summary: **Dean is kidnapped and Sam must race to find him, will he succeed? And what will be left of Dean if he does?

**Note: **This one's a little bit dark in parts, but I really hope that you enjoy it.

"I swear to God, Dean if you don't cut it out right now, I am going to kill you! Slowly."

Dean paused in the middle of what he was doing and then commenced making popping, clicking sounds with his lips and tongue, hoping to get Sam riled up even further. It worked. Sam lunged for his brother and after a brief struggle, succeeded in planting his hand firmly over his mouth, removing the possibility of further annoying noises. His satisfaction was short lived when he felt Dean's tongue slide over his palm.

"Eugh!" He grimaced, wiping his hand on Dean's jacket.

"I'm older, I always win." Dean announced triumphantly.

"Yeah you're older. And yet such a child."

Dean seemed to ponder this for a moment "Meh. I can live with it. Come on Sammy, what are we still doing here? Nothing's gonna show. And as much as I love my baby, I'd much rather be sleeping in a nice soft, bed right now."

"Look, Dean, we can go if you want, but I think this is a case, I mean a rash of strange disappearances around this area, every 3 months like clockwork, this is textbook stuff. You're only grouchy cos you're tired."

"Noo...I'm grouchy cos it's 2am, nothing's happened, not that there's anyone around to get taken. I'm bored and cold." He paused "Fine we'll stay here and look for Casper, but I'm not happy about it."

Sam chuckled at his brother, so very predictable.

Ten minutes later Dean had resumed his irritating noises again and Sam shot him a look. Dean let off a final pop "Whatever dude, I have to pee anyway; damn coffee goes straight through me, do something useful research boy and see if you can find out why it's a no show."

Dean swung the door to the Impala open and stepped out into the night, stretching his cramped limbs before jogging off behind some bushes for privacy, leaving Sam alone to thumb through his notes for what felt like the millionth time.

Damn it he was tired, he tried to make sense of the information in front of him, but it all jumbled together now he'd read it so much. Giving up on that idea he leaned his head back and allowed his eyes to slip shut, mentally going over everything he already knew. Every three months, no trace, no survivors and the missing people were all young, solitary men. _Oh crap._ Sam's eyes flew open, berating himself for not registering the information that was uncomfortably seeping over him now, both he and Dean were young men, and now thanks to Dean's ridiculously tiny, girl bladder, they were both alone. Again. Fantastic.

Dean lingered a while longer than was necessary, relishing the night air, it was peaceful, still, he didn't often get to experience the night this way, the soft autumn air carried his breath away from him in tendrils. Clouds glided softly over the bright full moon, obscuring his vision slightly. He heard a noise behind him, from the direction of the car. Brotherly instinct kicked in and he whirled to head back to Sam, unprepared for the heavy blow he turned into that sent him sprawling backwards, unconscious before he hit the ground.

Sam was beginning to worry, Dean had been gone way too long, he tried his mobile, and let out a groan of frustration when the familiar ringtone responded from the dashboard. Stepping out of the car, shotgun in hand he headed over to where Dean had gone to relieve himself.

"Dean?" he felt his pulse quicken at the lack of response, he scanned the surrounding area finding nothing "DEAN!"

xxx

_Ow_. That was the first thought to make it through the fog. His head felt funny and it hurt to open his eyes. So he prepared to let sleep take him back down before he faced the nightmare that was going to be today's hangover. Only something in the deep recesses of his mind kept calling to him, telling him that it wasn't right, something was wrong and this was no hangover. _Sam!_ Dean's eyes flew open; ignoring all pain he sought his sibling, knowing he had to make sure he was ok.

_Huh. Well this is new. _Dean glanced around, _where the hell am I?_ His vision still swam, but from what he could make out he was in some nice derelict room, quite possibly a basement, it was cluttered, all sorts of junk spread out over the place, a dull light seeped in from a small window above him.

_Ok, this does not look like a happy place, time to leave Dean, get your ass outta here pronto! _Oh, but he was trying, he was trying to sit up, but his still fuzzy brain took a while to register that he couldn't, craning his neck he glanced at his wrists, why had it taken him till now to realise that they were tied above his head, to the top of some old rickety camping style bed that he was laying on, he tugged in vain, his current physical state removing the majority of his strength. Swinging his head downwards he saw that his ankles were strapped to the foot of the bed as well. _Oh this is so totally not good_. And on top of everything else he was starting to panic slightly, making it even harder to stay awake, he was aware of a door at the top of the stairs opening and slow deliberate footsteps descending and then he sank into blissful oblivion.

xxx

Sam was frantic, Dean had been missing for over 24 hours now and he didn't know what to do. He was in constant communication with Bobby who was covering the majority of the research at his end and he was just searching, searching the woods where his brother had disappeared had occupied him most of the day, but when night fell and it became too dark to do anything of much productivity he was left alone with his thoughts and his guilt. He was such an idiot what was he thinking of letting Dean wander off alone like that, he knew that they both fit the profile, really it would have been better for one of them to act as bait, but not wander into the trap completely, without a weapon, without backup.

Sitting in the motel room, Sam knew he should try and sleep, knew that he was no good to Dean if he was exhausted, he lay down, staring at the empty bed opposite him and fell into a sleep where Dean screamed at him for help all night.

Xxx

And Dean was screaming. He screamed as the poker made the flesh on his arm sizzle. Wrenching him viciously from his dreamless sleep. When the pain subdued enough for him to stop digging his fingernails into his palm, he got his breathing under control enough for him to look up. Standing above him, fire poker in hand and wearing a smile that was way too damn cheerful for Dean's liking, was...a guy, a young, average looking guy. Just your normal, average, run of the mill psycho. Awesome.

"Hey there. It's about time you woke up; you've been asleep for ages, I was starting to worry that I'd given you brain damage and you were going to die, it happens sometimes!" He trailed off into manic laughter while Dean stared at him wide eyed and open mouthed.

After a while Mr Nut-job (Dean had not yet thought of a definitive name for his captor) stopped his insane laughing and just stood there chewing his bottom lip thoughtfully and looking Dean up and down. Dean really wasn't sure what approach to take with this guy so decided to test the water carefully at first before unleashing the rage.

"Where..." his throat was dry, cleared his throat and tried again "where am I?"

"My house."

Oh great, well this conversation was clearly going to be a walk in the park. He tried again.

"Who are you?"

"Oh God, sorry. You must think I'm so rude, I'm being such a bad host, after all I know you so well and you don't really know me at all yet. Hi, my name's Nick." He pumped one of Dean's hands that was shackled above his head, making the chains rattle against the metal frame of the bed.

Great, he'd wandered into _Misery_, he really hoped this dude wasn't going to hobble him; he seemed like a male Cathy Bates. Dean's freak out levels were rising fast, not only had he been kidnapped, but this guy was way too friendly and this left Dean unsure of how to behave so he didn't make the situation worse and... Hang on...

"What do you mean you know me so well?" Dean tried to keep calm as Nick glanced sheepishly down at his feet looking all too innocent and childlike for Dean's liking.

"I'm sorry Dean, I should have talked to you before, it's not like I didn't want to, but I got nervous and you were always with Sam," Dean flinched at the mention of his brother's name, biting his tongue to keep from demanding how he knew their names. "I mean you two were at each other's sides constantly for days, even at your motel, he just didn't leave, and then the time came again, so I was in the woods and I couldn't believe it when it was you that I found there, and you were on your own! It was like a part of you wanted to come to me, like it was meant to be." Nick finished, his soft smile didn't hide the intensity of his eyes that he fixed Dean with.

"Wait, so it's you that's been abducting all those guys?"

"What? No! I... They wanted to come, they all saw it in the end, some faster than others, but they weren't right, I knew it when I saw you that you were the one it was supposed to be."

Dean forced himself to stay calm, he couldn't freak out, not when he was so defenceless and this guy was obviously a crazy stalker. He was used to Demons not people, people were very unpredictable, he decided to stay with the friendly yet cautious route.

"Um, Nick is it?"

Nick nodded eagerly

"Could I get some water or something, I'm really thirsty and it sounds like we have a lot to talk about."

Mr Psycho-stalker jumped to his feet immediately "Oh, of course, I'll be right back." And he bounded up the stairs.

Dean immediately began to pull and tug at his restraints while looking around for something that he could maybe use to free himself, it proved fruitless and he relaxed back when he heard Nick returning.

Dean gulped down the water while Nick held it to his lips and propped his head up, unnerving Dean even more when he began to softly stroke his hair. Still Dean held his resolve, his arm still stung from where he'd burned him just for sleeping too long and he didn't really want to find out what happened when smiley Nick got angry.

After laying Dean's head back down Nick crouched down next to him, fingers still roaming through his hair, Dean stared straight at the ceiling, trying to ignore the look of pure adoration on Nick's face and the feel of him gently caressing his hair, and tried to figure out what his next move was. He was about to speak, when a voice interrupted him.

"You know what? I don't think I can." Nick spoke slowly, thoughtfully.

Dean's heart leapt in hope, was he going to be released?

"I don't think I can wait."

His heart settled sickeningly in his stomach. Nick began to speak faster, he became more jittery and excited, like a child about to open a present, this was not an analogy Dean wanted in his head.

"I mean. I was going to wait. I really was, I was going to save it, but I don't think I can, I really don't." He continued his rambling; Dean didn't know if he was talking to him or not, Nick was getting more and more agitated, his fingers running a harder and harder path through Dean's hair, he could feel his nails digging in to the skin on his head. _Oh God, what's he going to do?_ Whatever it was, Dean was sure it wasn't going to be good. All the others that had gone missing started running through his head, what had he done to them? Would he do to Dean what he had done to the others? Would it be worse? Would it be better?

He was snapped from his thoughts, when suddenly Nick was on the bed with him, the extra weight making to springs creak dangerously, Dean found himself being straddled _No this was definitely not good!_ Wild eyes fixed on his terrified ones, and then he felt hands on his waist, his belt being whipped off, hands where hands shouldn't be, at least not a dude's hands. Dean thrashed on the bed trying to topple him to the floor, but with his hands and feet restrained, it proved to be a lot less effective than he had hoped. He was really starting to panic now; he began to protest loudly, trying to calm him down not breaking his resolve. He was silenced when a mouth smothered his in a violent kiss. Resolve be damned, he reared back and head butted the guy, finally sending him to the floor, he wasn't about to become some guys bitch!

He tried to look as menacing as he could from his prone position, Nick lay panting on the floor, propped up on his elbows, blood gushing from his nose, he wiped it away with his sleeve, leaving a sickening red trail across his face.

"Alright then," he said softly "most of the others were like you as well to start with, I just thought you were going to be different. But it's alright; you'll see it too eventually."

Dean was beyond freaked now; how the hell was he going to get out of this, as the cloth was forced over his mouth making him dizzy, he prayed that Sam would save him soon and then he slipped into unconsciousness.

xxx

"Bobby, are you sure?" Sam gripped his phone to his ear tightly

"Yeah, I guess he slipped through the net. He claimed he didn't remember anything, but if I were you I'd get over there and make him remember." Bobby's voice was stern over the line; a few more brief words were spoken as Sam raced out to the Impala before shutting down the call and speeding off.

_There was a survivor_. Damn it how could they have missed that?

He pulled to a screeching halt at the address of James Marshall that Bobby gave him, and almost put his fist through the door he was knocking so violently. Eventually, a nervous looking man who Sam estimated to be about 25 came to the door and after spinning him some yarn that he could barely remember, he found himself sat in a living room, gripping a cup of coffee tightly in his hand.

"So, Mr Marshall, I know you said you didn't remember anything about when you were abducted, but we have reason to believe that another person has gone missing, and I was hoping that seeing as it was two years ago, your memory may have returned to you?" Sam knew he wasn't being tactful, and this time he didn't care.

"Erm...look I... I just don't remember anything I'm sorry." He went to stand up but Sam clamped a hand down on his arm, his worry making him oblivious to the man's wince.

"You have to remember something, I know you do. Don't you think it's your duty to help someone else?"

"Sorry, can I see your I.D again please?"

Sam ignored the question "Please, you have to tell me what happened to you! I promise it'll go no further, just help me save my brother!" he fixed the young man with those beseeching puppy dog eyes that Dean was always so proud of, his entire body tense, as if the possibility of answers would vanish if he dared to move. Finally the man sighed, dropping his head to his chest he spoke quietly.

"I wasn't lying. I really didn't remember what happened." He paused and Sam felt ready to cry with despair "At first. I'm sorry I've never spoken about this to anyone before."

"It's ok, take your time."

"I'd been out, drinking with some friends, I got into a fight and got thrown out, so I decided to take a walk to calm myself down. I was walking through the woods and that's the last thing I remember until I woke up chained to this shitty mattress in a basement."

Sam's throat was tightening but he forced himself to concentrate on what he was being told.

"So then this guy comes in..."

Sam stopped him "You say guy? Was there anything strange about this guy? Did he have weird coloured eyes or anything like that?"

"What? No. He was just a regular guy. Well apart from the fact that he was a complete psycho."

Sam was fairly sure his heart had stopped somewhere in the last sentence. It was a person? A human? Dean got abducted by a human? He wasn't sure if that made him feel better or worse. Either way he had to get all the information he could.

"He was so weird, he just kept looking at me and talking to me like we were best friends, saying stuff like, we were meant to be together, that I wasn't like all the others, I was different and soon I'd see it too. I was so angry, I was just shouting and shouting at him, then he said that he saw he'd have to make me come round to his way of thinking, and he..." he paused

"Please go on." Sam prodded gently.

"Well, basically, he tortured me. He'd suffocate me with a pillow till I'd pass out, then wait till I woke up and do it again. He'd burn me; beat me up, more of that kind of shit. Eventually he wore me down, so that when he... when he raped me it was easy for him, cos I didn't have the mental or physical strength to fight back."

Sam froze, part of him wanting to block what he was saying out of his mind, but he knew that he needed to hear this to help Dean.

"I guess I was stronger than some of the others had been, cos he left me unchained, and I ran, I guess the others hadn't done that."

Sam felt sick, but this new information spurred him on "Do you know where you were?"

"In the woods, I don't know exactly where cos I just ran, it was the middle of the night and suddenly I found myself in the centre of town, I don't remember getting there and I collapsed and didn't remember anything for a very long time, just hospitals and not really knowing why I was there or what happened to me. I'm not sure which is worse to be honest."

The woods, Dean was still in the woods, somewhere, but at least it was a start. The young man was crying softly, Sam didn't know when he had started.

"I'm sorry," he muttered "I know I should have said something, but I just couldn't."

"It's ok; I'll make sure he never does it again. Believe me."

xxx

Dean groaned softly and opened his eyes; at least he thought he opened his eyes. He really had to stop losing consciousness all the time; it was going to seriously mess him up if he wasn't careful. He was sure he had his eyes open, damn it, it was dark. He tried to sit up and succeeded in banging his head. Laying back down he put his hands to his throbbing forehead and then moved them gingerly upwards feeling a hard surface about half a foot from his face. He tried to keep himself calm, but he had a horrible feeling about where he was. He put his now shaking hands out to the sides and felt walls that were close, too close. Moving faster he searched above his head and again felt something solid. _Oh God Oh God Oh God! Please No! _Groping in his pocket for the lighter he was relieved to find still there, he flicked it on, and immediately wished he hadn't. He was trapped, all 6 sides surrounded by wood. He was in a coffin. Panic kicked in, fast. He screamed, his cries became hoarse as he bucked and kicked and scratched, clawing at the crude lid, feeling splinters bed themselves in his skin and nails tear, but he didn't care he had to get out of there. He stopped his frantic attempt at escape when he heard a voice.

"Ah. Finally awake then Dean? Well I'm glad, I was just about to leave, it's a good job you woke up when you did or you wouldn't have known what was going on." that manic laughter followed again.

"You see, I was hoping I wouldn't have to do this to you, I was hoping you'd make it easy on me. Do you think it's easy for me to do this? I wish I didn't have to but it's the only way you'll learn. Bye Dean."

Throughout Nick's little speech, Dean had lain there quietly, trembling, trying not to hyperventilate. All that went right out the window when he heard one of the most horrifying sounds of his life, I gentle thud on top of the box, followed by another, and then small flecks of dirt fell onto his face.

_Oh God he was being buried alive_

He started to scream again "NO! PLEASE NO! PLEASE I'LL DO ANYTHING YOU WANT! PLEASE DON'T LEAVE ME HERE! PLEASE! NO!"

"Dean, this is for the best, and you'll see I'm not unreasonable, I left you your lighter and a flashlight. Now please be quiet, you'll wake the neighbours."

The insane laughter that Dean heard above the shovelling of dirt sent him into another fit of panic. And boy was he panicking, Dean Winchester did not cry, but he had tears streaming down his face now, and he was fairly sure he was having a panic attack, he felt hopeless and terrified. Eventually after what seemed like an eternity he slowed his breathing down and found himself alone in the dark.

tbc

Thanks so much for reading, I really appreciate any reviews and advice. I will update soon.


	2. Chapter 2

Sam let out a groan of frustration and despair as he found himself back where he had started. He was sure he'd searched the entirety of these woods and there was no sign of Dean or a house or anything. Man was he tired; he'd barely slept these past two days. Resting on the hood of the Impala he reached into his back pocket and pulled out the dog eared map, and then poured himself another cup of very strong coffee from the thermos in his duffel. He stared at the map intently, as if it would crumble under his glare and give him the answers he wanted. Yeah, he was fairly sure he'd covered everywhere, except that area right out of the way, it was very small on the map, but it was somewhere, somewhere Dean could be and Sam was willing to try anything. He downed the last of his coffee and set off to try and save his brother.

xxx

He was cold. But the air was hot, hot and thin. He tried to suck it into his lungs but it didn't do a whole lot of good, he felt light headed. He wasn't sure how long he'd been stuck in there, he knew the little hand on his watch had moved round at least once, but he'd passed out, from panic and exhaustion and had no idea how much time had passed. He felt woozy, he was running out of air, he'd spent a long time clawing at the lid of the box (he didn't like to think of the word coffin, thinking of that word meant he was never getting out and he still held on to a little bit of hope that Sam would find him) he'd tried pushing with his hands and feet, but it refused to give, he tried punching through like Uma Thurman in Kill Bill, but he was weak and hadn't had all that funky training, so all he did was succeed in mangling his knuckles a bit more. He'd majorly freaked at one point, wanting to end it, he'd bashed his head repeatedly on the lid till he felt blood dripping into his eye and he'd fallen back, exhausted. After that he tried to keep the panic down, tried to keep it from taking over him, because he knew that he would use up more air that way, but the air was becoming very thin, spots danced slightly before his eyes, the hope that Sam would save him was dwindling out of existence. Now his main hope was that he would find his body and kill the son of a bitch.

"I'm sorry Sam." He whispered to the dark. He was so scared, he chuckled slightly, hysteria threatening to overflow, when he thought that he could now add claustrophobia to fear of flying, and then the knowledge that he'd never get out of there so it didn't matter. He was going to die here, in his _coffin_. God he wanted to get out of here, he was desperate, he'd do anything, a small voice chimed through his distress _You'll be dead soon, so just chill out there's nothing you can do about it._ He was sucking in bigger and bigger lungfuls of air, but he still couldn't breathe. All hope gone he resigned himself that he was going to die here in the dark, the flashlight batteries having dwindled a long time ago, leaving him with the eerie glow of the lighter. He was starting to hallucinate now, shapes danced in front of his eyes; he thought that he was talking to Sam, that Sam was coming to save him, shouting down encouragement as he tirelessly ploughed on digging further and further down, spade hitting the lid of Dean's wooden prison and soil was being scraped away, and something made it through to Dean, the soil was being scraped away, Sam had come to save him, hope flared like a candle inside, the lid was pried open, sunlight blazed in blinding him, he sucked in great lungfuls of cool crisp air waiting for his vision to clear, waiting for Sam to help him out. Only it wasn't Sam that grinned down at him, taking in his dishevelled appearance

"Are you ready to cooperate now?" Nick reached down a hand as despair washed over Dean.

xxx

Sam was making agonisingly slow progress through the trees, his mind replaying everything James Marshall had told him. _No. That wasn't going to happen to Dean, Dean would never let it. He's strong, stronger than all the others, he's a hunter._ But a niggling doubt kept pressing against those thoughts. _It's not a Demon, it's a person, a person has Dean and people can be a hell of a lot more psychotic than Demons._

Stepping cautiously over barbed wire Sam didn't have much farther to walk when he found himself breaking through trees looking down into a small valley that contained a dilapidated house, from where he stood he could see mounds of dirt, rusted bikes and other junk. _Dean_! Sam took off at speed down the hill, he didn't notice the unsteadiness of the ground, didn't see the tree root in his haste until his foot snagged on it and he found himself sailing unceremoniously through the air.

xxx

Dean didn't think that he could take much more. After being hauled out of the grave, he'd found himself being dragged along under his arms, his legs refusing to cooperate, he let himself be pulled through a very bare and basic house, (he and Sam had squatted in places with more decor) he felt his bare feet scraping on the floorboards, and then thudding down the wooden steps to the basement, the two of them sometimes teetering under Nick's lack of stability trying to manoeuvre Dean downstairs. When they finally reached the bottom, after much puffing and panting from his torturer, Dean found himself dumped ungraciously on the floor, his cheek pressed into the stone, unable to make himself do anything but watch a pair of feet move backwards and forwards.

Nick had knelt down in front of him, pressing his head to the floor so that he could look Dean in the eye "I know you still don't see it," he smiled gleefully "but don't worry you soon will." He had then proceeded to use various methods to try and break him, Dean noticed that the fire poker was his favourite, in between the various other tortures he'd happily pluck it from the fire he'd constructed in the corner and find a new piece of flesh to scar, it also seemed to excite him to find places that hurt more than the previous ones. He was knife happy as well, digging it into his thigh and twisting the blade, or dragging it slowly down his torso, not deep enough to cause real damage, just make it hurt like hell. Of course the thing that got to Dean most, was the things he was saying, he kept up a steady stream of chatter as if he was conversing over a beer while he was carving up Dean, mostly about Sam. He spoke of how if he didn't give in soon, he was going to do the same and much worse to his little brother, make him hurt in ways he never had before. He didn't falter while he told Dean new and more inventive ways, in which he was going to make Sam suffer, until Dean cried out for him to stop, that he'd do anything, just please stop, please don't hurt Sam.

But he hadn't stopped, he'd kept going, and now, just as Dean was beginning to think that he wouldn't be able to take much more, Nick burnt him one last time on the collarbone and then stopped, silent. Dean didn't know whether to laugh or cry when Nick just walked up the stairs leaving him finally, he didn't really care anymore, he just wanted it to be over. He didn't really notice when Nick returned, didn't register his uncharacteristic silence, or the disturbingly hollow look imprinted on his face.

The fog only seemed to clear when he found himself on the dingy mattress once more, (he tried not to think about what the stains on it were from) despite the lack of restraints, in his weakened state he could only lay there helplessly and beg _this was not going to happen, no way, this couldn't happen._ Nick didn't seem to hear his pleas; he just went about steadily removing the rest of his clothing, Dean tried to resist, weakly tried to push him off, tried to move away, tried anything that he could to stop what was going to happen, but Nick held him down with annoyingly little effort, before Dean realised it he was naked. He increased his efforts but stopped when Nick leaned down, a soulless expression on his face.

"Shhh. Do it for Sammy."

Leaving Dean trembling, trying to close his mind off so that he was unaware of what was happening, and suddenly he was being touched and groped and violated as Nick began one of the worst nights of Dean's life.

xxx

The gentle patter of rain on his cheek woke Sam, blinking sluggishly he was dismayed to find that although it was twilight when he fell, it was now very dark, he had no idea how much time had passed, time that could have been spent saving Dean. Why was it that he and Dean were forever losing consciousness, it was really not good for the brain. He started to push himself up and felt a jolt of pain through his left arm that had him biting down on his bottom lip to keep from screaming out in pain. _Ok so that's definitely broken_. Gingerly he tested the rest of his body, relieved to find that he appeared relatively unscathed.

Finally gaining his feet he made his way stealthily to the house and almost stumbled into an open grave. Shining his flashlight downwards, he could see long fingernail scratches down the inside of the lid of what looked like a homemade coffin, blood and _eugh! Was that a nail?_ Tearing his eyes away from the dismal sight he continued to survey the rest of the house and snuck in through the broken screen door.

Flashing his mind back to what James Marshall had told him, he began his search for the basement. The house was old and a mess, peeling wallpaper, cobwebs in the corner, creaking floorboards, the place looked like it hadn't been lived in in years and was ready to fall down at any moment. The basement door looked like it was the sturdiest thing in the entire house, thick wood with several locks, to keep something out or to keep something in Sam wasn't sure. As he drew closer his ears picked up some of the most horrific sounds he ever heard in his life, two different voices, one making sounds that disgusted him to his very core and filled him with a deep fear, the other voice strangled and anguished, soft pleading mixed with harsh sobs. _Oh no. No no no no no no no! _He threw himself against the door, the noises stopped and everything seemed still for a moment before he pulled out his gun and proceeded to shoot the damn locks off if it would get him in faster. Breaking through the door Sam hurtled down the stairs, unprepared for the sight that greeted him. A bloodied, naked figure lay in a ball facing the wall on an unstable looking bed. _Dean._ The shock at seeing his brother like this blind sighted him temporarily and he was caught off guard when someone shoved past him violently and ran up the stairs.

Nick didn't get far before he felt the searing pain of the first bullet rip through his shoulder blades. Falling on his stomach he was rolled onto his back viciously. Sam looked down at Dean's captor, he looked normal, apart from the insane glint in his eyes that he fixed Sam with, he grinned up at him

"I knew he was different. You're too late, no matter what, a part of him will always belong to me."

Sam resisted the urge to vomit as he glared down at the man, the man who had taken his brother and done God knows what to him, lying naked, dying without any dignity as he spluttered and choked on his own blood, Sam felt no remorse as he emptied the rest of the bullets into his body, finishing off with a headshot for good measure.

Slowly he approached the bed where Dean lay, shrugging out of his jacket he attempted to offer his brother some dignity, before cautiously rolling him onto his back, praying that he'd still be alive, was still breathing, was still Dean. Sam almost gagged when he saw the state his brother was in, his handsome face was caked in blood, so much that Sam couldn't identify the source. Savage burns were scattered about his body, his torso was littered with a variety of cuts and wounds, and his hands were bloodied and torn, missing a couple of nails. But what worried Sam the most was the glazed look in Dean's eyes, he was muttering under his breath, his eyes unseeing. Sam leaned close, trying to make out what he was saying.

"Do it for Sammy. Do it for Sammy. Do it for Sammy."

Dean repeated this over and over until Sam wanted to scream. He grabbed Dean by the shoulders and stared into his blank eyes.

"Dean. It's Sam, I'm here. It's gonna be Ok now. You're safe, it's all over."

The fog seemed to clear from Dean's eyes, he focused on Sam.

"Sammy?" he croaked out, his bottom lip starting to quiver.

"Yeah Dean," Sam choked back his own sob "Yeah it's Sammy, I've got you."

Fresh tears welled in Dean's eyes "I knew you'd save me."

tbc

thanks for taking the time to read, I'd love it if you gave me a review :)


	3. Chapter 3

Dean was acting like... well... Dean. Only it was a more intense Dean, like a caricature of his former self.

It had been three weeks since Sam got Dean back, three weeks since he'd practically carried him up the stairs, dragged him up the slope and pushed him through the woods in a wheelbarrow that he found lying around, it wasn't ideal, in fact Sam had hated the fact that he'd had to resort to pushing his big brother around, but it was the only way he could get them away as fast as possible, especially with his arm out of action. He never wanted to see that place again, (he still had to go back and take care of the body, not yet though, he wasn't ready to leave Dean alone just yet.) He'd finally gotten Dean back to the Impala, and sped off to the hospital, where there had been questions, people in crisp clean clothes, and they were pulling at his brother, he thought he'd said something about Dean disappearing when they were asking their questions, but it was all such a blur, because Dean had been panicking, crying out desperately, confused and scared by all these strangers surrounding him, he'd had to be sedated. Then there had been stitches and examinations, somewhere along the line Sam could vaguely remember his arm being put in a cast, and the Doctors had been talking to him, telling him that they had upsetting news, that there was evidence that Dean had been raped, and through it all Sam just stood there nodding like a puppet on a string, numb to it all. He didn't really remember talking to the police who promised that they would be back when he was a little more up to answering some questions. After a few days, when it seemed that Dean was up to it, he'd taken him, removed the I.Vs, helped him get dressed and then they got the hell out of dodge.

For the first week, Dean just lay there on his bed in the motel, staring at the ceiling. He'd move when Sam prompted him, to the bathroom, or to eat, he didn't eat much, he just seemed to be running on autopilot. Not talking, just barely functioning when it was required.

The only time Dean seemed to make any noise was when he was having a nightmare, Sam didn't want to think too much about the strangled, distressed noises emitting from his big brother's throat. The first few nights when it had happened, Sam had leapt from his bed, and rushed to Dean's side, he wouldn't respond to gentle attempts to wake him and so Sam had to shake him and shout in his face, and eventually Dean would wake up, whimpering and confused, and look at Sam like he didn't know who he was, until the familiar face and voice registered and the shame kicked in, the noises stopped and he managed to settle him back down, but he wouldn't really sleep. It hurt Sam when Dean looked at him with those lost eyes, but even more disconcerting was that Dean looked afraid of him, afraid that he might harm him, that he was the bad one in his nightmares. And so Sam stopped rushing to Dean's side, because he hated the look Dean gave him, he'd just listen to Dean ride out his nightmares. He always woke up to them, well he thought he did, maybe he was becoming accustomed to listening to Dean relive what had happened to him. The guilt sometimes became too much to bare when he heard Dean, whimpering and begging for it to stop and he couldn't believe he was leaving his brother alone again to deal with the horrors that were tormenting him, and so he'd get out of bed and try to avoid those lost, hurt eyes that he wanted so badly to help, but didn't know how to unless Dean would talk to him, and he'd hush him, reassure him that it was over, even though a part of him knew that it would never be over, a part of it would stay with them forever, no matter what.

He'd woken up in the middle of the night, to steam curling under the bathroom door and anguished gasping, crying sounds coming from within. He'd flung the door open to find Dean, still wearing his boxers and t-shirt sitting in the bottom of the tub, the shower was on full blast, temperature up to full, Dean was scrubbing at his arms, making the skin raw and blood was starting to seep through the skin. Sam had turned off the scalding water and tried to pull Dean out, when Dean had grabbed his hands and fixed him with wild, frightened eyes

"I can't get him off Sam. I've tried and I've tried but I can't get rid of him."

And Sam had murmured quiet reassurances while he wrapped his brother in a towel and led him out of the bathroom, Dean had just stood there, still staring and not seeing while Sam changed him into dry clothing and put him back to bed. He sat for a long time watching Dean who appeared to be sleeping, and physically fell off the bed when Dean had sat bolt upright and screamed at him when he'd tried to sooth him by running his fingers through his hair. After he managed to calm him back down, he'd kept a watch on Dean most of the night, sitting on his own bed watching the rise and fall of his brother's chest until it lulled him into a restless slumber.

The next day Sam woke up and Dean was gone. Terror set in. Flying to the bathroom to see if he was huddled in the tub again Sam was dismayed to find it empty, and wasn't even going to bother getting dressed before he hurtled out to find him, when he heard the door close, he spun round to find Dean fully dressed, holding a bag of groceries tossing the keys onto the table.

Sam stood there eyes and mouth agape, before he rushed forwards.

"Dean, where the hell have you been? Are you alright? Are you hurt?"

Dean batted off Sam's hands as he searched for any sign of injury.

"I'm fine Sammy boy! Just had a craving for some proper food. Got you a hot bacon sandwich, that's good breakfast." He patted Sam's cheeks before thrusting the bag into his arms.

Sam didn't know what to think, he didn't know how to handle last night's scared and traumatized Dean and he sure as hell didn't know what to do with this new Dean. He watched dumfounded as Dean stretched out on his bed to read the paper, snapping himself out of his stupor he dumped the bag on the floor and sat on the edge of Dean's bed, staring at him intently. Dean put down his paper; pen dangling out of his mouth covering the split lip that he was sporting.

"Can I help you?"

"What's going on Dean?"

"I'm looking for a hunt. Maybe you should go back to sleep those little brain cells clearly need their rest."

"Dean, look at me. Talk to me man, last night I catch you trying to take your skin off and this morning you're acting like nothing happened."

Dean met Sam's gaze, unfazed and let out a sigh "Look, it's fine, I freaked, I'm over it, let's move on."

Sam spoke slowly, gently "Dean, you can't just bottle this up. You need to talk about it, you need to deal with it properly, let me help you."

"I have dealt with it," Dean said with a smile "it's dealt with, over and finished, and I don't want to hear another word about it." And with that he disappeared behind his paper.

Dean had been like this ever since, only much more intense, it reminded Sam of when his Dad died, he was erratic, overly cheerful, and when he killed things he made sure they were dead, dead and never coming back. Sam was concerned.

xxx

When Sam saved him, Dean hadn't known what to say, he was too weak to move, and time seemed to happen in flashes, one minute he was lying in Sam's arms, the next they were moving through trees and he could hear Sam grunting in pain but he couldn't bring himself to do anything about it. Then suddenly he found himself in hospital, faceless people surrounding him, tugging at his clothes, touching him, he'd started to resist, started to scream and cry out for Sam, he thought it was happening again, he was disoriented, scared, and then there'd been a needle and he'd known no more. The hospital was like a weird dream, he was numb to everything, not really sure what was going on or why he was there, he just knew it was bad, but as long as they kept him blissfully unaware he didn't care, he didn't talk to the people around him, the people asking him questions and pumping him full of drugs, he didn't want to think, just close his eyes and block out the world. It had taken him a while to register that Sam had come to get him, come to take him away, and then there was the road, the soft purr of the Impala, soothing him into sleep. After that he hadn't done much sleeping, every time he did he'd be awoken by nightmares, sometimes they woke Sam up too, more often than not they didn't.

He'd jerked awake after a particularly nasty nightmare, sitting bolt upright and gasping for breath, covered in a cold sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead. He'd dreamt he was there again, it was vivid and real, he could feel his hands crawling over his skin, his breath hot on his ear as he whispered how special he was, he'd flung himself from the bed and into the bathroom wanting to burn off all trace of him, wanting to rub away the flesh that he'd touched. He didn't notice at first when Sam found him there, until he'd tried to pull him out and then for the first time, he felt compelled to tell Sam, because maybe just maybe Sam could make it all better. But he couldn't, he'd almost made it worse when Dean was hovering on the edge of sleep and he felt fingers smoothing through his hair, and suddenly he was back with Nick again, and Nick was about to... He sat up and screamed, screamed at Sam to get the hell away from him, to leave him alone, never to touch him again, and then he'd realised that it was Sam, it was his Sammy that was hushing him and soothing him and trying his hardest to make everything better.

The next morning he woke up long before Sam who he suspected hadn't actually been asleep all that long, and lay there for a long time, thinking, wishing that his little brother could make it all go away, and then he realised that it was up to him, he could make it all go away, he just had to carry on. So he had gotten up, and gotten dressed properly for the first time in a while, and gone to get breakfast, deciding that as long as he didn't think about it, as long as he kept it at the back of his mind with everything else that he didn't want to hurt him, and as long as he just kept going, soon it really would go away and everything would be ok again. He had shrugged off Sam's concerns, the looks that he kept shooting him all day every day, the cautious questions and requests to talk and kept going, just kept smiling, kept hunting, kept killing.

xxx

Dean had been pretending to be ok for over a week now, and Sam was fairly sure he'd been grinding his teeth down to the core. They'd been picking up small hunts here and there, and now they were taking out a Demon, they had it trapped and now Dean was slowly killing it, taking his time with holy water, and basically exhausting all other torture methods he could think of until he exorcised it. Snapping the book closed he headed back to the car. The ride back to the motel was uncomfortable and silent until Dean broke it.

"Another one bites the dust eh Sammy?"

"Yeah. Um... Dean. I..."

"Sam I swear, if you tell me I need to talk to you one more time I'm gonna punch you."

"Well what the hell Dean? What do you expect me to do? Don't you think you were maybe a little excessive in there?"

"It was a Demon. Demon's are evil, we kill them, end of story."

"Yeah, we kill them; we don't beat the living shit out of them first." He paused, licking his lips "I'm worried about you man."

Dean cast his eyes skyward "Sammy, how many times do I have to tell you? I. Am. Fine. I'm ok; I'm just doing the job and moving on. Now," He shook himself off, pulling into the parking lot and shutting off the engine "What do you say we hit a bar tonight? Maybe a club, see what the local chicks are like?" he asked with eyebrows that were slightly too raised, and a smile that was slightly too wide.

Sam frowned "Dean I think that's the last thing you should be doing, I think you just need to chill out, just take some time and get your head straight."

"Fine, I'll go by myself, have fun sitting alone all night." He opened his car door and walked quickly to their room, Sam close behind him.

"Why are you so against me?"

Dean turned slightly baffled at his little brother's outburst

"What are you talking about? I'm not _against_ you."

"Oh yeah? You won't talk to me; you're being spiteful and shutting me out! I know you're hurting man, let me help you."

Dean's face was like thunder, he looked like he was about to shout, about to punch him, and Sam wanted him to, wanted anything but this bravado show he was putting on, so he was dismayed when Dean seemed to mentally shake himself, smile and say

"It's fine Sam. Get a pizza and a movie or something. Don't wait up." And with that he turned and walked out the door, leaving Sam to stare after him, his dismay increasing when he realised that Dean had taken the car.

xxx

The bar was heaving, it seemed to take Dean forever to weave his way through the crowd and perch himself on a bar stool. The close contact of the place had made him uncomfortable and he badly wanted a drink. He had to shout at the bartender for a double Jack and to keep them coming. An hour later he was feeling nicely warm and numb, but his thoughts were pushing at the back of his head, the thoughts that he'd tried so hard to suppress, but were always there, always niggling away, he had to find a way to stop them taking over or he'd freak out and didn't think he'd make it back. But the alcohol dulled his senses and the thoughts were pushing their way forward, their whispering voices reminding him of things he'd much rather forget, poisoning his mind with savage memories of darkness and blood and pain and... He felt the whiskey burn his throat and settle sickeningly in his stomach. He needed a distraction; he needed to feel normal again. His eyes roamed the bar finally settling on the pretty brunette sitting alone in the corner, swigging the rest of his drink and grabbing the bottle of Jack from the bar, he sidled over.

"Hi. Erm... you um... don't have a drink. I can pour you a drink." In his inebriated state, the Dean Winchester charm wasn't working very well, fortunately the girl was so drunk she didn't notice.

She giggled "I'm Chloe."

"Dean." He held out a hand and she shook it, knocking over several empty glasses in the process.

It didn't take long for her to start cosying up to him, using not so subtle gestures, a hand on the thigh, a kiss on the cheek. Dean wasn't entirely comfortable; the little voices in his mind telling him it was too soon, he couldn't do this, but the part of him that wanted so desperately to feel normal again, just drank those voices into oblivion and before he knew it, they were outside, kissing up against the Impala and she was whispering in his ear that she had a motel room, before she stumbled and he had to catch her before she hit the ground. It wasn't exactly a pleasant drive, Dean practically pasted his eyes open and for once drove slowly, hearing Sam's lecture in his head about drunk driving and was grateful it wasn't a long journey.

After making a somewhat dodgy parking job, they staggered into the motel room, Chloe seemed to have subdued somewhat on the drive over.

"You ok?" Dean slurred

She seemed to ponder this for a moment "Um, yeah, yeah I'm fine"

He grinned, his smile a shadow of its former self and proceeded to kiss her vigorously, her lips soft, so much softer than Nick's had been, Dean gasped and jumped away from her, blinking hard to ensure himself that he wasn't there anymore, he was with a cute girl instead. A girl who was swaying quite unsteadily on her feet and he wasn't entirely sure she knew where she was. Taking her by the hand he led her over to the bed where she flopped down on her back ungraciously while he knelt above her as she reached up and pulled off his shirt and stopped. She was staring at his chest, rocking back and forwards slightly.

"What happened to you?" she asked with wonder

"Huh?" Dean glanced down blearily as she ran her hand over the scars covering his body, tracing the knife wounds and burn makes with her fingertips. Dean swallowed hard still trying to keep the memories at bay.

She fell back, she blinked, slower and slower "You know, I don't feel so good. Maybe this isn't such a good idea... maybe we sho..." she trailed off as her eyes closed. Her breathing evening out as she slept.

"Hey." He gently slapped her cheek, trying to get her to wake up, but she just breathed heavily, oblivious to all.

Through his hazy world, Dean looked down at the unconscious girl below him. _She knew something was wrong. She saw, she saw the scars; I'm never going to be rid of him. _He'd wanted to get it over with, thought that if he could sleep with someone, take control then it'd be over, and he could get back to normal. But she'd ruined that, she'd seen his disgusting scars and she hadn't wanted him anymore.

These thoughts came rushing through his head, and with them, the memories, the feelings of vulnerability and hopelessness, the memory of being pinned, unable to move, beneath a heavy, thrusting, sweaty body, each jolt feeling like he was splitting in two. The feeling he'd had ever since of not being clean, that people were watching him, that people knew, knew he wasn't a real man anymore, she'd known, and she hadn't wanted him anymore, _stupid bitch_ he was shaking, shaking with fear and frustration and anger, anger at himself, anger at Nick, anger at her. How dare she reject him, before, girls were queuing up for a night with him, he needed that back, he needed to feel like a man again, and damn it, she was going to give that to him.

Suddenly he was tearing at her clothes, pulling her skirt down and wrenching her top off over her head, leaving her in just her underwear and heels, he let his hands roam roughly over her body, feeling her soft flesh. He was wrestling with his jeans when he heard her make a soft moan. Alcohol, shame and anger still coursing through him strongly he willed her not to wake up, it would be so much easier if he could get through this first time without her judging him.

Drunken, confused eyes, wandered around the room before fixing on his, and instantly he saw them sober. He clamped a hand down on her mouth hard and fast as she opened it to scream, his fingers pressed cruelly into her cheeks. He could feel her quick breathing from her nose on the back of his hands, revealing her panic. She whimpered softly as she started crying, her chest jerking up and down with fear and sobs.

"SHUT UP!" he snapped at her, leaning menacingly into her face "Stop Crying! I SAID STOP CRYING AND SHUT UP!" with effort she calmed her sobs until she lay trembling under Dean's powerful grip.

Satisfied that she'd stay quiet he removed his hand and continued trying to rid himself of his jeans, keeping her pinned with one hand clasping her smaller ones above her head.

"Please." A wavering voice said "Please don't hurt me, I'll do anything you want, just please don't hurt me." And then the sobbing started again.

Dean stared at her; he met her wide, terrified eyes with a dawning horror. It was like a veil had been lifted, and he realised what he had been about to do. He let her go and she instantly wriggled out from under him and scooted back against the head of the bed, curling herself into a ball, as if she could protect herself from him.

"Oh God." He whispered "Oh my God, what have I done? I'm sorry. Oh my God, I'm so sorry." The world was starting to spin; the bed under him didn't feel so stable anymore. "I... I'm gonna go, you'll never see me again, I promise. I'm sorry." And with that he was gathering up his clothes and stumbling out into the night.

He barely made it outside before he was doubling over, vomiting with shock and disgust at what he'd just done. Eventually his heaves subsided, and suddenly someone had him by the bare shoulders, was straightening him up, Sam.

"Shit, Dean what the hell happened?"

He couldn't speak, couldn't look his brother in the eye, he had to get away, shoving Sam roughly to the ground he dug the car keys out of his pocket and sped off into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

Hi, sorry about the delay, I had a bit of a writers block,I hope you enjoy this and I do love all reviews!

xxx

Sam had followed Dean.

He knew his brother was messed up and fragile and wasn't about to let him go out alone and get drunk, with his state of mind at the moment, who knew what would happen.

He'd walked the direction that Dean had taken off in, he didn't need to go far until he found the Impala sitting in the parking lot of a busy bar, in the dwindling twilight. He entered the bar and after pushing making sure he had a clear view of Dean where he couldn't be easily spotted he ordered a beer.

He watched as Dean drowned his sorrows at the bottom of a bottle, and cringed when he thought of the hangover he was going to have tomorrow. He'd started to go over when he saw Dean get that glazed look on his face that he'd come to know so well and stare off into space, but before he could move far, his brother had snapped back into himself and was approaching a very drunk girl.

He continued to watch as they flirted and then finally left. He had trouble weaving his way through the crowd and by the time he got outside, the Impala's taillights were disappearing round a corner.

_Oh great._ He thought. The last thing they needed was a freaking car accident. He took off at a jog the way they'd headed. It wasn't a very big town, and the residents all seemed to have collected at the bar, so he found the streets quite deserted.

Finally he saw the Impala, again signalling his destination. He wasn't sure what he was really doing there, he just knew that he didn't want to leave Dean alone. He cocked his head to the side slightly, he'd thought he'd heard something, shouting, maybe screaming. He inched his way closer, really not wanting to intrude on Dean's um...down time, but something was niggling at the back of his mind, telling him all was not right.

The next thing he knew a door was flying open and Dean, jeans unbuttoned, the rest of his clothes in hand, was falling out of the door, leaning against the wall and throwing up violently.

Instinct kicked in and he ran forwards, straightening Dean up he asked him what had happened and saw something in his face that shocked him, that he never wanted to see again as long as he lived, a deep-seated hopelessness mixed with a fresh, new fear. And then Dean was pushing him to the ground and taking off in the car, leaving Sam even more dismayed.

Getting to his feet he approached the door and knocked gently. There was no response but he heard crying from within. He tried again.

"Hello?"

"Get the hell out of here before I call the cops!"

"What? Whoa! No, no don't do that, please I just want to talk to you."

"I said get out of here!"

"Look, I'm not here to hurt you or anything. My name's Sam I just saw my brother run out of here and I'm worried about him."

"Worried about him?!" the voice from behind the door was shrill and frightened. "He's sick; now get the hell away from me!"

Sam was getting more and more worried, he needed to know what had happened "Please, he's erm... he's not well, he just got back from Iraq and it's messed him up a bit. Please, I just want to help him, just talk to me, please talk to me, I'm not going to hurt you."

He waited agonisingly long seconds before he heard the chain slide on the door and a red, mascara streaked face peered fearfully out at him. He recognised the girl from the bar, although now, she seemed to have sobered up a hell of a lot.

"You try anything," he could tell she was trying to keep the tremor out of her voice "and I'll cut it off."

Then she stepped back to let him in, gestured for him to sit on the bed while she stood next to the door, kitchen knife gripped tightly in her hand, her slight form shaking under the robe she was wearing.

"Thank you." Sam didn't quite know what to say, whatever had happened couldn't have been good, maybe Dean had freaked out at her, thought she was a Demon, tried to kill her.

"I, er... I'm sorry, you're obviously upset, but I really need to know what happened, I need to help my brother."

"Help him?" her tone was a cross between amused and disgusted "He's sick! He needs locking up!"

"Why?" Sam tried to keep the urgency out of his voice, "What did he do?"

He watched as the girl's face crumpled, and she tried to regain her composure.

"He...He tried to rape me."

Sam felt like he'd been punched in the stomach. No. She must have got it wrong, Dean would never do anything like that, especially since...oh crap.

"Are you, are you sure?"

She scoffed "Of course I'm sure. I was really drunk and I passed out, but I remember saying no! When I woke up, he'd taken all my clothes off, he was...touching me, and pulling his jeans off and I started to scream and he covered my mouth, told me to shut up. I was so scared, and then he just stopped, just said he was sorry and took off. Bastard, who would do something like that?" she'd been getting more and more worked up and now the tears were streaming down her face.

"I don't know." Sam murmured then got himself together "I'm sorry, I know this is awful for you, but I'm going to get him help, just try to forget us." He stood and left, giving her time to move away from the door, and then he went to find Dean.

xxx

He could still feel the bile rising in his throat, expressing his repulsion at what he'd just done, just tried to do. He pressed down on the accelerator, watching the road disappear beneath the wheels. He wanted to go so fast that he could forget, just forget about everything that had happened in the last few weeks, he wanted to erase it all, just go back and do things differently. He was going fast now, too fast, too fast to stop for the road closed sign that he barrelled through, slamming on the brakes and spinning in circle before coming to a violent stop at the side of a bridge and cracking his head on the steering wheel.

Opening his eyes slowly, he did a quick inventory; nothing seemed to be broken although he felt the sting from the gash on his forehead where the stitches had reopened. He got out of the car to survey the damage to his baby. He'd managed to slow down enough to not cause any extensive damage, to himself or the Impala, just a few bumps on both sides.

In a haze he wandered over and leant on the railings of the bridge crossing the river below and looked at the night, he listened to the soothing babble of the water, a few stars were twinkling above him, and the moon was full again, he remembered the last time he'd stood taking in the tranquillity of nature around him, watching the full moon, the night he'd been taken. _Was it really a month ago?_ Time seemed to have slowed since then, or had it sped up? He wasn't really sure, he supposed it didn't matter. He brought his attention back to the calming sound of the water below him, black and endless and comforting, and then his mind felt clearer than it had in a long time, it could be over, it really could, he could just jump and that would be that. No more being a burden to Sam, no more having to live with the pain every day, no more having to push everything to the back of his mind, trying to keep it from hurting him, and no more hurting other people. He blinked furiously, trying to get rid of the image of the girl, frightened, vulnerable, what had he become? How had it come to this? He was just like him, just like Nick and he'd be damned if he was going to hurt anybody else, like he'd been hurt.

He pushed himself up onto the side of the bridge, swinging his legs over the side and sat looking down. He wasn't going to jump, well at least not yet, it's not as if there was any rush, he just wanted to think for a while. So he sat there, thinking about his life, about his Mum, his Dad, Sam, the few people in his life who'd actually meant something to him, what would his parents say if they could see him now, how had he disappointed them so badly?

"Dean?"

He closed his eyes and sighed "Hey Sam. You always find me, don't you?" he smiled sadly and turned his head to look at his brother "No matter where I am, you always find me."

"Yeah Dean, I'll always find you. Now get down and come with me." His tone was soft, gentle but firm and Dean stared at the sad expression on his face, sure that his own must equal it.

"Not so sure I wanna do that Sammy. I quite like it up here, for the time being."

There was silence as Sam followed suit and climbed up to sit next to Dean.

"Did you talk to her?" Dean stared ahead calmly as he asked the question, the question that would change their relationship forever, not that it mattered really, it had already been changed through no fault of their own.

"Yeah," Sam spoke quietly "what happened Dean?" he didn't really want to hear it, but he needed to, he wasn't exactly comfortable with them both sitting high above unpredictable currents in the early fall, but they both knew that if Dean went in, Sam was coming right in after him, and he wasn't so sure that Dean was so far gone that he'd sacrifice the one person he'd tried to protect all his life, but having said that he was drunk and fragile, and falling was still an option.

"You know what happened."

"Yeah I do, but I want you to tell me about it."

Dean cast him a sidelong look, his expression quizzical "How exactly do you expect this conversation to go down? Gee Sam, I sure had a weird night, I got wasted and fully intended on having sex with a drunk chick and then when she passed out I decided it was a good idea to rape her instead."

Sam's gentle tone didn't alter, he knew Dean was hurting and he had to ease it out of him. "Dean, tell me what happened."

Dean gazed into the blackness below and shook his head slowly "I don't know. I...we got back to her motel room and everything was going fine and then she saw the scars on my chest and she passed out, just passed out. I don't...I don't know what happened then, I don't know why I did it, I just flipped, it was like I'd gone mad for 5 minutes, that poor girl. She woke up, I could see it in her eyes she was terrified, but I just yelled at her and carried on, and then it was like I was back in my body and I got the hell out of there."

Dean's tone had remained relatively stable throughout regaling Sam with tales of attempted sexual assault, as if he was reporting some trouble he'd had buying gas, and through it all Sam had sat there, staring at the water as well, listening, taking in everything he was saying, when Dean seemed to have finished he tried to speak, but had no idea what to say, what could he say? He was about to open his mouth and say something unhelpful and pointless when Dean continued in a high pitched, frightened whisper.

"But Sam," they both turned, met each other's eyes "If she hadn't woken up, I don't know if I would have stopped."

"No! You would have stopped Dean, that's not you! You did stop! You're just in a really bad place right now and you need help!"

They stared at each other for what seemed like a lifetime, two frightened faces understanding the gravity of their situation. And then Dean blinked and turned away.

"I mean, what if that's how it starts? What if that happened to Nick?" It was the first time they'd actually mentioned his name in a normal conversation, not that this could be called normal. "What if it happened to him, and so he did it to others and now he's dead, but it wasn't his fault, maybe some of it was my fault."

Sam was taken aback, did Dean actually somehow think that he was to blame? He reached out and grabbed his brother's shoulders; they both wobbled slightly with the sudden turn.

"Listen to me Dean. It is not your fault. None of it! He was a sick bastard and he got off too easy, even if something did happen to him, think of all those other guys who he tortured and..." he trailed off reluctant to say the word "I know what you did tonight is terrible, but you didn't go through with it, you stopped. I don't know how to make it better Dean, but if you talk to me, it might make it hurt a little less."

Dean smiled sadly "Man you're such a girl." It never reached his eyes, his smile faltered "What do you want me to say? How am I supposed to make you understand when I don't even get it myself?"

"Tell me what he did to you."

Dean actually laughed at this "Yeah right, not exactly a conversation I had planned for my baby brother."

"You don't need to go into details, but you need to talk about it, it's eating you up inside, it's driving you crazy, unless you want to go to a shrink,"

Dean cut him off with another sharp laugh.

"Well then I'm all you've got Dean, and you're all I've got, so we're in this together."

"Together Sammy? If it had been you, or if it had been both of us, I wouldn't have made it. If I think about that happening to you, I... we're not in it together though are we, it's just me, and I'm glad."

"Will you stop?"

Dean looked dimly alarmed "Stop what?"

"Stop playing the martyr. You need to forget about me and focus on you, you need to talk about this because it's killing you, and it's killing me."

"Huh? Wasn't that a bit of a contradiction? I'm still quite drunk Sammy you have to slow down." He looked at Sam's face, it was desperate and pained, he sighed.

"I didn't know what he was trying to do at first, I just – I don't know what I thought. I guess I thought he was going to beat me up or something like that." He chuckled "well I was right, just didn't realise how very intense he was going to be about beating me up, and other things."

There was a steady silence while both prepared for the conversation, not feeling the need to rush, just waiting, and knowing it needed to happen.

"He buried me alive you know." He said nonchalantly.

Sam said nothing, just squeezed his eyes shut, he'd had a suspicion that may have happened, judging by the open grave he found, the fingernail scratches, and the state of Dean's hands, but they hadn't actually spoken about it, they hadn't spoken about any of it. He couldn't imagine how Dean must have felt to be trapped, buried underground, for how long?

As if reading his thoughts Dean continued "I don't really know how long I was down there. I kept passing out, and I don't know how long I tried to get out for, I kinda lost it in there Sammy. I...I think I tried to kill myself, but I don't think it worked."

Sam almost wanted to laugh at the childish naivety presented in his brothers voice _You think Dean? I'm fairly sure you didn't kill yourself in there, if you did your surprisingly coherent for a dead dude._ He wasn't sure why he suddenly felt the urge to laugh hysterically, maybe the stress and tension of the past few weeks was about to push him over the edge.

"I thought I was going to die Sammy. I think I nearly did die, nearly ran out of air. I thought you were coming to get me, I could hear you digging, hear you getting closer, but it was him. And I was just so damn glad to be out of that box, but I couldn't think properly, couldn't make myself move, I was tired and hurt and I didn't really know what was going on." he let out a half hearted chuckle "kinda like a good night out huh?"

Sam didn't say anything, just stared down in to the depths of the water, a small part of him wondering if it would be easier if they both just jumped over the edge, just drown all the hurt. But it was only a small part, the rest of him wanted them to survive, to somehow make it through and get back to how things used to be.

He glanced over at Dean, he seemed to be deep in thought, lips pursed, brows furrowed, also staring into the black abyss below, Sam really hoped he didn't intend on jumping, that would make things very awkward.

"Why would someone do that?" his voice was quiet, thoughtful.

"I don't know Dean. He was screwed up. He was evil."

"Am I evil Sam?" his voice was innocent, childlike

"No. No you're not evil Dean. You're just in pain, and you dealt with it the wrong way." Sam spoke softly, tenderly, as if he was comforting a confused child.

"That girl thinks I'm evil. Shit, I don't even remember her name. I mean, that's gotta have messed her up a bit right? How's she supposed to get over that?"

"I don't know Dean. I'm sorry, I wish I had all the answers but I don't." He bit his lip, hating what he was about to say. "But I don't care about her."

Dean's head swivelled so fast Sam was sure he must have given himself whiplash.

"What the hell Sam? Do you not get what just happened? I tried to rape her! And you don't care?"

"No Dean, I don't. Not really. I care about you, it's not my job to take care of her, but I do have to look after you and right now I'm just hoping that she hasn't called the cops so they can add attempted rape to your list of offences."

He sighed looking at Dean's alarmed face "I feel bad for her, I really do. But you're my priority Dean; you're the one I've got to look out for."

"But she... she's gotta be feeling like shit right now. What if she can't deal? What if it's too much? What if she keeps it to herself and it eats her up inside? What if she can't go on? What if she feels like it's her fault. Oh God." Dean had worked himself up so he was almost hyperventilating, he was shaking badly and Sam was afraid he was on the edge of a major breakdown.

Sam angled himself so that he could turn Dean to look him in the eye, and potentially swing them both onto the bridge if it looked like Dean was about to take a tumble. He grabbed Dean's shoulders again, his cast making it more difficult than it should have been and turned Dean, forcing him to meet his gaze.

He kept his voice steady "Dean, you need to calm down ok? Just breathe with me, it'll be ok, just stay with me."

Dean followed Sam's order and managed to settle himself back down.

Sam kept his hands on Dean, ensuring there was a connection "Is that how you feel Dean?"

Dean dropped his eyes, he couldn't bear for Sam to see what was inside, see the hate and the filth that was brewing within him that he was trying so hard not to let boil over. How could he let his baby brother know how he felt inside? Below his dangling feet water looked blurry, he couldn't really tell where it started and where the air finished, he was kind of interested to find out. But there was a reason that he shouldn't, he looked up and into Sam's eyes and saw the hurt there, the need to help, the unconditional love.

"No." he finally whispered.

Sam looked confused but didn't speak.

"Not exactly. I guess – it's hard to explain. Kind of... empty. Empty and dark, like everything's dark, and it keeps getting bigger and soon there'll be nothing left of me. Maybe that's good, maybe I don't want there to be anything left. Because maybe then it'll stop hurting." His voice hitched "It hurts Sam. It hurts so bad, and I can't do anything to stop it." He dropped his head down to his chest, his shoulders shaking under Sam's grip.

"I know it does Dean, but I can help, we'll get through it together"

Dean didn't seem to hear him.

"I was scared Sam."

Sam blinked, even after everything that had happened; he still didn't expect to hear those words coming out of his mouth, for Dean to admit it was totally new territory.

"I was so scared. About what had happened to you, what was going to happen to me, what he did to me." The last part was whispered quietly, like Dean didn't really want to admit it.

"I should have tried harder to get him to stop. I did try, at first I really tried and I stopped him." Dean jerked his head up, and stared into Sam's eyes desperately, trying to get him to understand that he was serious "I promise that I stopped him Sam, because I was strong then, and I wasn't about to let him... he didn't like that though, and that's when he buried me. He buried me in the ground until I couldn't fight back anymore," he dropped his eyes again, the pleading in his voice returned "When he tried again, I did fight, I promise I did, at first. But then... he kept saying things about you, that he'd do the same to you, but it'd be worse."

Guilt washed over Sam like a tidal wave, he knew he shouldn't blame himself, but he felt responsible that the sick pervert had used Dean's love of his brother to subdue him.

"Dean I..."

"I stopped fighting Sam. I just stopped and let him do it. I made it easy for him, why didn't I try harder? I could have stopped him, I should have stopped him. I just lay there Sam, I just lay there and let him do it, I'm so pathetic! What the hell's wrong with me?" Dean's voice had risen to a crescendo and Sam had to tighten his grip to get him to calm down again.

"He raped me Sam." Dean felt funny when the words finally came out. Simultaneously, he felt relief that he could finally admit it, and a painful crystallising acknowledgement of the truth, the truth that he'd been trying so hard to avoid and deny.

"The bastard raped me. He held me down and he raped me. And he took my life; he took everything from me and turned me into this pathetic waste of space, I don't understand how you can even stand to look at me, after what I've done, I'm disgusting."

Before he knew it, he was crying, his body shaking with great anguished sobs that he couldn't control no matter how hard he tried, he didn't think he had the energy to stop them anyway. He turned his head away in a vain attempt to stop Sam from seeing; his tears fell from his eyes and were lost in the water below. He badly wanted to join them, but then Sam was turning him back round, and pulling him close, his hand on the back of Dean's head as he leaned his forehead against Sam's chest and cried, his sobs echoing in the night.

Sam held Dean as he cried, unsure of how to react, he stared hollowly at the sky, holding onto his brother awkwardly as he finally broke down, not the safest place to do so, in the grand scheme of things but he was glad it was coming out at last. He wasn't sure how long they sat there like that until Dean's loud sobbing and keening dwindled into softer moans and whimpers. It took Sam a while to realise that Dean was talking, his words hard to pick up amongst the whimpering.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry..." he repeated this over and over his voice high pitched and raw.

Sam gently pushed Dean backwards, holding him by the arms again he tried to see his face, but Dean kept his head hung down, muttering and sobbing quietly, his tears splashing onto the thick railing of the bridge they were sat on.

"Dean?" Sam ventured tentatively "Dean why are you sorry." He felt like he was addressing a small child, and that's what Dean looked like right now, a scared, distressed child.

Dean didn't respond, so Sam lifted his face up, he tried to pull away but Sam held on, gently but firmly.

"Come on Dean, you're doing really good. Why are you sorry?"

Dean sniffed, blood shot eyes cautiously found Sam's, his face was red and stained with tears. "I'm sorry I did this to you Sam."

Sam had to bite his tongue to keep from yelling at Dean for still trying to be the protector when he so badly needed to be looked after. But he let Dean hold onto that part of himself that he was still sure about, that he had to look after his brother.

Dean didn't want to be unloading all this onto Sam, he didn't want to think about it himself, but the alcohol did make it easier to talk and he supposed they both needed that right now, even though he didn't really feel drunk anymore, just numb and hollow.

"I...I'm sorry for what I did to that girl. Why did I do it Sam? I'm sorry for everything."

"It's ok Dean, it's not your fault."

"And I'm sorry for this."

"Huh?"

The words barely had time to register in Sam's mind before Dean's fist flew out, catching him on the jaw, stunning him, throwing him backwards to land on the hard surface of the bridge.

Dean didn't look back, he knew that if he did then he probably wouldn't go through with it, but he didn't think he could live like this, with the shame and the fear. He tried not to think too hard about it, just closed his eyes and jumped.

tbc

thanks for reading, please review and let me know how I'm doing, the story's nearly finished and I'll update soon. really hope you enjoyed.


	5. Chapter 5

Very nearly finished now, I'd like to thank everyone who's been reading, and especially those of you who reviewed, those were some awesome reviews, hope you enjoy!

xxx

Everything happened so fast, one minute Sam thought he was getting through to his brother, the next he was flat on his back, looking up just in time to see Dean disappear over the edge.

"NO!" He scrambled to his feet and threw himself at the railing; there was a splash as Dean hit the water, without thinking, Sam jumped in after him.

Fortunately it wasn't too high, but it still hurt nonetheless, and the water was frigging freezing, Sam gasped as he broke the surface and looked around wildly for Dean, swiping at the long hair clouding his vision. The current didn't seem too strong but that didn't mean it was trustworthy, he had to find Dean, and get them both out of there now.

And then he saw him, floating in the water. _Please be alive please be alive please be alive_ it seemed to take Sam forever to reach him, the cast on his arm weighed down with water hindered his progress. Finally he reached out and grabbed his shoulder, both relieved and dismayed when Dean jerked away from him.

"Dean what the hell are you doing?" Sam shouted over the rushing water.

"Go away Sam. I have to do this."

"Don't be an idiot, let's get out of here." Sam tried to grab him again but Dean shoved him roughly backwards.

"I said leave me alone." Dean started to swim away but Sam was behind him in an instant, trying to drag a struggling Dean to the shore.

Dean kicked and thrashed in Sam's arms, until an elbow to the ribs set him loose, the upper ground temporarily his, he dunked Sam under the water and started to swim away as fast as he could. He inhaled rancid tasting water and came up coughing when he felt hands grab him again.

They were both thrashing around violently, neither one about to admit defeat, their heads kept disappearing under the water, and Sam was sure they were both going to drown fighting if he didn't do something fast. He delivered a well aimed punch to Dean's head and saw his struggles lessen; wasting no time Sam grabbed him and ploughed on towards the shore.

It was difficult trying to manoeuvre them both to the shore, especially when the current kept dragging them downstream, Sam kept swallowing mouthfuls of water and could only pray that Dean was still breathing, he couldn't waste time checking on him, he had to keep moving. Finally he felt the earth under his feet and after dragging Dean a little further, collapsed in the shallow water. Breathing hard, he pulled Dean's limp body close to him, and rested him against him between his outstretched legs.

"Dean?" he patted his cheek gently, then a little harder "Come on Dean, open your eyes."

He was about to start mouth to mouth when Dean spluttered and coughed before breathing deeply.

"Sam?"

Sam rubbed some of the dirt from his brothers face "Yeah Dean. I got you, it's ok now, I've got you."

"Sammy I..." his voice hitched and his hand groped upwards, gripping Sam's jacket and holding on tight as his body once again racked with vicious sobs. He curled onto his side in a ball; his other hand found Sam's leg and held onto that too, twisting the fabric beneath his fingers, and he cried again, because that's all he could do, just cry himself out and let Sam hold him and sooth him like a freaking baby, but he didn't care, he wanted to be held, he wanted Sam to try and make it better, he wanted to tell Sam everything.

"I can still feel him Sam," he ground out between sobs "I can feel him touching me, he's all over me, he's inside me, I can feel him inside and I just can't get rid of him, I can't get clean, and it hurts and I just want it to stop."

Sam wasn't saying anything, but he knew he was listening; he was cradling Dean in his arms, holding him close and tight against him.

"I just want to feel normal again, that's why I wanted to have sex with her, to feel normal, but it didn't work, and I didn't mean to do that to her, I don't want to be like him Sam, I'd rather die."

"You're not like him Dean," Sam spoke softly "you could never be like him. You made a mistake tonight, you're not the same as him, you're strong."

"It'll never go away though will it Sam? He'll stay with me forever, no matter what I do, or where I go, he'll always be with me."

"It will get better Dean, I promise. I know it doesn't seem like it now, but it'll get easier with time, and I'm going to be with you the whole way, I'm going to help you through this, you just have to let me in."

Dean lay crying in Sam's arms for a long time, until his sobs lessened and he fell asleep exhausted, still clinging to his brother's jacket. Sam stayed where he was, allowing Dean this brief moment of peace. The sky was getting lighter, the birds started twittering in the trees, warning him that day would come soon, and with it another struggle.

Slowly and gently he uncurled Dean's fingers and shrugged out of his jacket, rolling it up to create a makeshift pillow, he tentatively eased out from under Dean and lay his head down on the jacket before darting back up the hill to get the car and parking it as close to the river as possible. That done, he led a still half asleep Dean to the passenger door and attempted to rid him of his waterlogged clothing and replace them with dry ones from the trunk. This effort succeeded in rousing Dean, who, in his hazy state, began to cry out and struggle when he felt someone pulling at his Jeans and Sam could have kicked himself for not realising that Dean would probably not appreciate someone trying to undress him.

"Dude it's ok, it's just me. I just need to get you into some dry clothes ok?"

The haze seemed to lift slightly in Dean's eyes, enough for him to acknowledge Sam; he gave a half nod and closed his eyes again.

Both dry with the heater going full blast, Sam made a quick stop at the motel to collect their things before he hit the road with a fierce determination.

xxx

The rumble of the engine was soothing, the way his baby was purring was a welcome distraction from the bitch of a headache that was making itself known. The world was spinning even before he opened his eyes, which was a good signal that nausea would soon follow. Dean blinked slowly and registered the cool glass his cheek was squashed against and the scenery spinning by and – oh wait here comes the nausea.

He groaned and shifted in his seat.

"Morning." Sam's voice sounded strange, but he was feeling too bad to worry about it too much right now.

"Eugh. What smells like river?"

"Err... That would be you. And me."

"What – oh." Last night's events came rushing back to him

"Sam stop the car I'm gonna be sick."

Sam's reflexes were sharp and Dean was throwing open the door before it had come to a complete stop, tumbling to his knees in the dirt and bringing up everything he drank last night.

Sam winced at the violent heaves, but stayed behind the wheel, knowing that Dean wouldn't want to be touched when he was busy putting his insides on the outside.

After a while the heaves subsided and Dean pushed himself up to sit in the car and accepted the bottle of water that Sam held out for him.

"What time is it?"

"About 11am. Figured you could use some sleep."

"What about you? You get any rest?"

"I'm fine. I caffeinated."

"Yeah that's not exactly sleep though is it? Come on, switch, I'll drive."

"Dean you're not exactly in any condition to drive, you had a lot to drink last night. Besides, I don't feel tired."

"Bull, I'm fine. And I'm driving, um...where are we driving to? Where are we?"

"I uh... have an idea that might help you."

Dean leaned his head back and sighed in exasperation "I thought we were done with all the emotional crap, we talked it out."

"When you were drunk, do you really think that made it all better?"

"You're not gonna hold that against me are you? Like you said, I was wasted."

"Dean you tried to kill yourself. That's not something you just sleep off."

"Yeah, well it is with me."

"Damn it Dean, you are not going to do this again. Every time you show a little bit of weakness, you work extra hard to show that you're ok, but you're not. And if you keep going like this, last night's going to happen all over again, only this time someone really will get hurt because you'll be too far gone to care about what you're doing."

Dean looked like he'd been punched.

"That's not fair Sam." He hissed. "You know I didn't mean it. You said you understood."

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean it to come out that way."

"What? Didn't mean to tell me that I'm a stone's throw away from becoming a rapist?"

"That's not what I'm saying. I just meant that this isn't one of these things that you can just bottle up. But I know you don't like talking, and I err... I think I might have thought of a way to help you deal a little bit."

"What?"

"You're just gonna have to trust me."

Xxx

"Dean wake up."

Dean jerked awake, and wondered when it had started getting dark again.

"Dude how have you not crashed? You've been awake for frigging hours."

Sam spoke quietly "We're here."

"Here? Where the hell is here?"

Sam was quiet for a long time before he finally muttered "We're back."

Dean was getting tired of Sam's little word games, he was still feeling delicate after his rendezvous with the bottom of a whiskey bottle.

"Sam what are you talking about? What do you mean ba..."

He whipped his head around, the surroundings suddenly looking painfully familiar. The thick, dense trees, the uneven footpaths, leading to secret hiding places, places that Dean didn't want to remember, let alone revisit.

"NO! No Sam! No! Why the hell did you bring me back here?"

Sam continued to speak with that same irritating softness "I still have to burn the bones." He paused licking his lips "I think it might help you Dean."

"YOU BASTARD!" Dean couldn't keep the malice from his voice. A part of him knew that Sam was trying to help, but the voice of reason was quickly being silenced by the swelling fear and panic that was bubbling within him. The confines of the car suddenly felt way too small and he flung the door open, lurching to his feet, before turning to continue his assault on Sam who was watching him over the roof of the car, with that same damn _understanding_ expression on his face.

"Why the hell would you bring me back here? Do you enjoy it? Huh? YOU'RE SICK! What the hell's the matter with you?!"

"Dean calm down." Sam was steady and sure "I didn't bring you here to hurt you. If you really want I can do it myself, but I think that this might help you to move on, if you can finish it."

Dean's breathing was becoming way too erratic and purple spots started to dance in front of his eyes he squeezed them shut tight and when he opened them again he was on the ground in Sam's arms, he wasn't happy about the number of times Sam had held him over the past day, they were seriously going to need some beer and sports to man up again.

"Dean will you breathe?" Sam's voice was laced with concern and Dean realised he'd been holding his breath and let it out in a long whoosh.

Sam pulled him into a sitting position.

"Sam please, I can't go back there. Please don't make me go back there. I can't think about that place, about everything that happened there," he dropped his head "about how you found me."

"Dean, I don't think any less of you because of what happened. If anything, you're stronger, you survived, and you can survive this too, just don't let him win. But I understand if it's too hard for you, you can stay here and I'll be as fast as I can."

Dean looked up glumly and nodded. Getting back into the car as Sam grabbed what he needed from the trunk.

"I won't be long ok. Just keep the doors locked and listen to the radio or sleep or something."

Dean gave a curt nod of the head and said nothing, leaving Sam to suppress a sigh and start walking, he was starting to think maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all, he'd thought it might help but he had a horrible feeling they were about to backtrack into silent, non-functioning mode, and that was scary, he was also not happy about leaving Dean here alone, but it had to be done.

Dean sat in the car with his arms folded tight across his chest like a stubborn child, watching Sam walk away. He was so not happy with this situation. He was angry that Sam had brought him back here, angry and scared. Scared for himself and scared for Sam, walking towards his former prison, alone. He was also not comfortable being alone here himself and maybe Sam had a point, he could try.

Groaning in exasperation he got out of the car.

"Sam! Sam wait for me."

xxx

The walk through the trees was long and uncomfortable, spent mostly in silence, neither brother wanting to concentrate too much on what they were about to encounter, better to just keep walking in silence and not have to think too hard.

When they reached the barbed wire, Sam started to get a little nervous; he didn't think that Dean knew how close they were to the house and the memories that would haunt him there. He tried to gauge Dean's mood, wondering if he should tell him or not, he was still debating this when they broke through the trees, the broken down house a pale ghost against the blackening sky.

Sam stopped suddenly, even though he knew it was coming he was unprepared for being back here again. Dean, who had been trudging along behind him, head down, slammed hard into his back.

"Oof! What the..." he stopped when he realised where they were and stared, unmoving, down into the valley, for what seemed like an eternity to Sam, before he clenched his jaw and set off down the hill.

If it had been anyone but Dean, Sam was sure that his legs would have buckled when greeted with the sight of the grave, wooden coffin still there, waiting like some undelivered promise. The blood had long since congealed and dried, but the fingernails were still there, strongly embedded as a reminder of just how hard he'd tried to escape, of just how scared he'd been.

Sam stepped up beside him "Dean? We could fill it in?"

Dean just shook his head slowly and mumbled something that might have been "Not yet." But Sam wasn't sure. Then he turned and started towards the house, pausing he spoke in a hollow voice.

"I don't know the way in Sam."

"It's alright, I remember." Sam didn't know what effect this was having on his brother, he hadn't even thought that Dean probably wouldn't recognise the exterior of the house, because he would have been either unconscious or disoriented from physical and mental torture when he'd been outside.

Stepping though the broken door was like stepping back in time for Sam. He was hit with the same rush of crippling fear for Dean. He had to mentally berate himself and focus. The weeks since they'd been here last had taken their toll on the already crumbling property. The bare light bulbs had long since burnt out, fresh cobwebs had grown in the corners and flies were buzzing round the pile of dirty dishes in the sink, perhaps the one semblance of normalcy in this guys life.

Dean stayed very close to Sam, he was very very nervous being here, he didn't really recognise his surroundings, but they were too close to a place he knew only too well and he was on the verge of totally freaking out, but he was ok, as long as Sam was here.

The sound of scratching made Sam cringe inwardly at the announcement of rats, Dean on the other hand went bolting for the door. To him it wasn't rats; to him it was the corpse of Nick, clawing his way up the basement stairs to finish the job, to trap them here with him, where he'd torture them forever. He'd made a vain grab at Sam's sleeve before instinct took over and he turned and ran, glancing back over his shoulder for Sam and bashing into a door frame that stunned him and sent him sprawling backwards onto the floor, if it had been under other circumstances Sam would have pulled something laughing.

Sam was at his side in an instant. "Dean! What's wrong?"

"Run Sammy, he's coming, you have to get out of here!"

"What do you mean? Dean he's dead, he can't hurt you now." Sam ignored the fact that in their line of work, dead didn't always mean that they couldn't hurt you anymore.

"I can hear him Sammy he's coming! I can hear him scratching!"

"What? Dean no, it's just rats. I promise."

"Rats? Are you sure?"

"Positive."

Dean let Sam help him to his feet and his eyes settled on the door, it was broken and splintered where Sam's bullets had pierced it. Beyond, it was dark, and the stench was unmistakable.

"I don't know if I can go down there Sam."

Sam followed his gaze "You don't have to, you've done really well just getting this far. If you want, I can take care of the rest."

Dean started to nod his head yes, then shook it fiercely, "No. I can do this. I'm not going to let him win."

"We'll go as slow as you want."

"Just go before I change my mind."

The steps to the basement door were agonisingly long. When they reached the top, Sam tried one of the light switches, satisfied when a dull bulb flickered to life, and with it, Dean's prison was illuminated.

Sam felt sick, beyond the decomposing body on the stairs, torture instruments littered the room, shackles were fixed at the top of an unstable looking bed, and the mattress was caked in dried blood and things that Sam didn't want to think about. He hadn't really looked around when he'd rescued Dean, he'd been too focused on getting his brother out alive, and making sure that Nick was most definitely not alive. But it chilled him now to look around at the dank, dingy room that was the source of so much of Dean's pain.

But as much as it distressed him, he wasn't sure how Dean was going to react.

"He stopped when you shot the door open." Dean was fingering the bullet holes and no doubt giving himself a whole load of splinters. "When he heard you try to push it open, he didn't stop though, he heard, but he didn't stop, it was only when you used the gun."

Dean's face was vacant, and he flinched when Sam put a gentle hand on his arm. Looking past him down the stairs, his blood ran cold. Lying there, slumped awkwardly, frozen in his last moment of living was Nick. In a trance he moved past Sam down the stairs, standing at the head of the body he gagged, at the smell, at the memories. He didn't realise that he'd started to shake violently until Sam was turning him round, telling him to breathe and calm down, but he couldn't calm down like this, not when he was behind him, he needed to be able to see him, when he couldn't see him he could be doing anything. He could be sitting up, his juices oozing on the steps, the decomposing face would start smiling that smile, and the dead fingers would reach out and grab him and pull him back down to the bed, where he'd rape him again and then after he was done, he take him back to the coffin and get in with him, bury them together because he was already dead, and Dean was the last one he'd taken and he'd make sure that they were together forever.

He could hear someone screaming, he guessed it must be Sam, because the naked, dead body was sitting up now, he only hoped that Sam could get away, that he wouldn't have to see what was going to happen to his big brave brother again, and then he realised that Sam wasn't screaming, Sam was talking, it was him, he was screaming, the guttural, pained screams coming out of his own throat and Sam was trying to calm him down, had somehow pulled him back to the top of the stairs where they were both sat and was trying to get him to stop screaming. He whipped his head to look down the stairs, the body was still there, still dead, it hadn't moved, it wasn't going to move, he was just having a teeny tiny freak out.

He stopped screaming abruptly, embarrassed that he'd let himself get carried away like that.

"Dean, maybe you should wait outside while I finish this."

Dean only shook his head and watched as Sam headed back towards the body.

Sam had to suppress the urge to vomit and the sight of the rotting corpse, he'd seen worse but he detested being back in the same vicinity as the creep, alive or dead. He wanted to get this done quickly, the longer they stayed here, the worse it would be for Dean, he couldn't believe how he'd ever thought this would be a good idea, how this could possibly help. He pulled out the salt and was about to get to work when a small voice stopped him.

"Wait."

His eyes darted up to the top of the stairs where Dean was curled into a ball holding onto the banister, he was almost surprised that Dean wasn't sucking his thumb he looked so young and helpless.

"Why? Do you want to...?"

Dean shook his head "Not here, we should put him in the coffin; he should spend forever in there."

Sam looked down at the rotting corpse at his feet, the idea of having to touch the body, made him want to retch, but still anything that would help Dean.

Dean seemed to sense Sam's hesitation; always sacrificing himself for Sam he started down the stairs to help, before Sam put a hand up.

"No Dean. You don't have to touch him, I'll get him outside." There was no way that he would torment Dean any more than he already had been; there was no need for their flesh to come into contact ever again.

Dean seemed to accept this and sat down on the stairs again. Sam grabbed a blood stained plastic sheet that he guessed had been used to keep the mess to a minimum when Nick got bored with his current toy and put his captive out of his misery.

Somehow he managed to get the body onto the sheet without throwing up or passing out, and then proceeded to drag the carcass up the stairs, Dean scooting out of the way as he passed, keeping his eyes averted.

Once Sam had left, Dean stood to survey the room, when he felt a powerful shove from behind that sent him tumbling down the wooden steps.

Startled he looked up from his position on the floor, his vision swam and he had to blink hard to clear it. Two feet came in to focus, following them up, his cry lodged in his throat.

"Hey there Dean! Welcome back!" Nick grinned down at him.

xxx

tbc

Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it please review and let me know what you think, reviews are like sugar, I love them :)

I will be updating very soon!


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry I was a bit longer in updating than I said I'd be, I've moved back to uni and so have been kinda busy, anyway please enjoy and then give me review cookies!

xxx

Sam couldn't hold it in any longer, halfway between the house and the grave he dropped to his knees and emptied his stomach contents onto the cold earth. He ran a shaking hand across his mouth and got to his feet; clutching the plastic sheet in his hands he continued to drag it the remaining distance.

He had no idea what was going on in Dean's head, he was fairly sure he might have made the situation a whole lot worse by bringing him back here, he didn't know what to say. To hear Dean scream like that chilled him to the core, he didn't think he'd ever heard his big brother make sounds like that before, and he really didn't want to again.

He tried to shut his mind off, focus on the job at hand, he didn't know how he was going to get the body into the coffin without touching it, and he really didn't want to touch it. He didn't just want to torch it, he wanted to mutilate it, hack it up until he felt he had worked out his frustration, but that would involve more physical contact than he could stomach and he wanted to get out of here as fast as possible.

Grunting with the strain, he managed to haul the body into the grave, still hoping to avoid touching it he whipped the sheet out from under it.

_Huh. Well I guess you're spending eternity face down. _

No way was he turning him over, he was in the coffin and that was all that mattered, he made fast work of salting the body, and was midway through dowsing it with kerosene when he heard a terrified cry come from the house.

_Oh No! Dean!_

xxx

Dean gaped up at the figure before him.

_No. You're not real. You can't be real._

He squeezed his eyes shut tight, praying that when he opened them again he'd be gone. He didn't get a chance to open them before he felt himself hurtling through the air, and colliding with the stone wall, knocking the wind out of him, before rebounding onto the bed, the absolute last place he wanted to be.

Gasping with the effort to breathe, he desperately tried to roll of the bed and to the floor, if he could only get enough air to shout for Sam. It hurt to breathe, he couldn't breathe, and he felt like he was drowning. Finally the tension eased enough for him to suck in a lungful of air. He continued in his efforts to roll off the bed and was on his way to the floor when he was forced backwards. Nick was much stronger now than he had been in life and that made Dean very uneasy.

"I knew that you were special Dean," he whispered, his mouth close to Dean's ear "Sam tried to stop us, but it's ok now, we'll be together forever, Sammy won't be a problem much longer."

"Only I get to call him Sammy you son of a bitch!"

"Oh dear Dean, I thought you'd learnt it wasn't a very good idea to talk to me like that. I guess I'll have to teach you again. Good." He smiled the wide, crazed smile and plunged a hand through Dean's chest.

Dean screamed in agony, his chest was on fire, and it felt like he was being ripped apart.

"SAAAAAM!"

xxx

Sam was just bursting through the door when he heard Dean scream his name. He didn't stop, didn't hesitate, just ploughed into the basement, where he became fairly sure he'd walked into a time loop, Dean was back on the bed, screaming in pain, and the ghost of Nick was back on top of him, killing him.

He wasted no time, running purely on instinct, his brain had yet to catch up to this new information, he fumbled in the duffel, grabbing the shot gun he was about to empty a round of rock salt into its paranormal ass, when it jerked it's head round and sent Sam flying backwards, the shotgun slipping from his grip.

Then Nick was in front of him, lifting him up so his feet dangled just off the floor.

"Hi there Sammy, so nice of you to drop in, but I need some alone time with Dean, so I'm afraid you're going to have to leave. Don't worry, it'll only hurt a..."

In an instant he disappeared in front of Sam's eyes and he felt the rock salt smash into his ribs as he fell to the floor.

He wheezed and coughed as Dean pulled him to his feet.

"Dean, are you ok?"

"I'm fine Sammy." His voice was hard and cold.

"Suppose it stands to reason that he'd come back as a spirit. Just cos it's us."

Dean's laugh was humourless "Come on, let's do some burning."

They didn't have much time; they had to move quickly, this was hindered by the fact that they were now both in a considerable amount of pain. They helped each other to the stop of the stairs, and were making good progress when Sam suddenly disappeared from Dean's side.

"Sammy!" Dean spun to see his brother mimic his earlier flying lesson and go careening into the wall and onto the bed.

"Sammy, hold on!" Dean ran, sending objects flying in his wake as he crashed into them in his frantic need to get outside. He could hear Sam's desperate gasps for breath echoing in his ears.

xxx

Sam's world was going dark, Nick's spirit was choking the life out of him without breaking a sweat, he wasn't sure what was worse, dying at the hand of his brother's rapist or the fact that the freaking ghost never shut up. He just kept up a steady stream of dialogue while he was sucking the life out of Sam.

"Well this looks a little familiar doesn't it Sammy? It's just like when you killed me! Except as I remember it, you were on top and I was in your position. You liked it better on top didn't you, not like Dean, he preferred it on the bottom, not that I gave him much choice in the matter." His manic laughter was even more demented in death.

Sam tried to tell him to shut the hell up, but he was too busy trying to stay alive to put too much effort into the matter.

As the light faded, he wondered vaguely if this was what Dean felt like, how much worse was it for his big brother. And his last thought before he slipped into unconsciousness was to hope that Dean would get away, would get on with his life and forget about the horrible things that had happened here, but he knew that when he died, it wouldn't be too long before Dean followed him.

xxx

It felt like he was running in quicksand, moving so fast but he couldn't get anywhere, never had anything seemed to take so long.

_No way, not Sammy! You can't have him you evil son of a bitch._

He threw himself on the ground at the side of the grave and fumbled desperately with the matches, his shaking fingers wouldn't cooperate, with each passing millisecond, Sam was closer and closer to death, and if he died it would be all Dean's fault, he would have failed at his one job and all because of that psycho. Well screw that, the match flickered to life, wasting no time, he tossed the match onto the corpse, and felt a grim satisfaction when the night was lit with the fire from the burning bones, destroying everything that was once a pathetic excuse for a human, and with it, Dean had to admit he felt a strange sense of relief.

Pulling himself from his reverie he hauled ass back inside.

"Sam? NO!" Dean skidded to his knees at the side of his unconscious brother, feeling madly for a pulse, beyond relieved when he felt it beating strongly behind his fingers. Breathing was a whole other problem, mainly because Sam wasn't breathing. Tilting his head back, Dean blew air into his brother's lungs, and collapsed back on the floor when after three agonising lungfuls of air, Sam's eyes flew open and he sucked in oxygen greedily.

"Damn it Sam," Dean said in a shaky voice "I swear you just do these things to try and make me gray, just cos I'm the better looking one."

Sam just nodded; too busy getting oxygen flowing around his body to speak.

As soon as he could Sam, rolled onto the floor next to Dean, he had absolutely no desire to be on that mattress any longer than necessary, and together they sat, not speaking, not moving just sitting.

"You torched him then?"

It had been a long time since either of them had said anything and Dean looked up to meet Sam's eyes, they were tired and pained.

"Yeah, this time, he is so not coming back."

"You ready to go?"

"Yeah."

xxx

Sam shovelled the last pile of dirt onto the grave, Dean had stopped when the grave was nearly filled, Sam hadn't questioned it, hadn't even hesitated, just kept on digging. He understood that this would be hard for Dean, that it would drag up horrible memories of being stuck down there.

He straightened up and stepped back to stand next to Dean, who was staring at the unmarked grave, unblinking.

"You ok?"

"All those people Sam. All those men that he kidnapped. What do you think he did to them? Where... where are they now? They could be under our feet, or anywhere, they could be in the house. No one will ever know."

"I know Dean, there's nothing we can do for them now, but we've stopped him from hurting anyone else."

"Yeah, I guess we have."

"Let's go Dean, we never have to see this place again."

"In a sec Sammy, I just have to do something first. Do me a favour, wait here."

"Uh...sure Dean. You're um... you're not going to do anything stupid are you?

"You mean like kill myself?" Dean permitted Sam a small grin "Nah, not really in the mood for that today. I won't be long just wait here."

He picked up the gas can, pleased that there was still a substantial amount left and headed inside. He didn't hurry on his way down to the basement, he wasn't afraid of it anymore. Well that was the lie he was telling himself anyway.

He surveyed the room, it was just a room, but so much evil had happened here, there was evidence of it scattered around, like a museum exhibit, agonies frozen in time. He grimaced at the bed, the worn shackles and the blood, more blood than could come from just one man, some of it was his blood and he wasn't going to leave any part of him here. He sprinkled salt down for good measure and liberally dowsed the mattress in kerosene. He took one last look around the room and turned, tilting the gas can so it left a neat little trail behind him, turning the basement light off as he left, leaving the darkness behind him. He made sure to cover the downstairs, leading a weaving trail around the rooms to the door, and then he tossed the gas can back into the house just for that little bit extra.

Sam was waiting anxiously outside.

"Sammy can you pass me the matches?"

Sam held them out obediently.

"Oh, and you might want to back up a little bit."

The match came to life much faster than before, probably because Dean wasn't shaking anymore. He watched as the fire edged closer to his fingers and dropped the match, watching as the fire raced around his path, down the stairs, and only moved away after he saw the darkness of the basement light up, brighter than the rest.

Side by side they stood there, watching as the house was engulfed in flames, the fire destroying every bit of Dean that was still in there, giving all the victims some semblance of justice and finality.

When it was fully ablaze, the house beginning to crumble under the vicious assault, they left in silence, Dean looking back only once, and then turning away wanting never to see or think about that place again. But he knew he would think about it, he would think about it for the rest of his life, it would haunt him in his weakest moments and darkest nightmares, it would change him, but he wouldn't let it take him over completely, he could use it, use it to make him stronger.

He chanced a glance at Sam, surprised he was leaving him alone to his thoughts. His brother looked like death warmed up, and he wasn't surprised, Sam hadn't slept in over 36 hours now and their recent battle with a deceased psycho/murdering/rapist must have really taken its toll.

When they reached the car he ushered Sam into the passenger seat with a minimal amount of fuss and gunned the engine, seeking the nearest motel, desperate for sleep in a proper bed himself.

xxx

Dean lay awake, listening to the sound of his brother's heavy breathing, usually it would lull him into a gentle slumber, he'd match his breathing to the sound of his Sam's, and drift off. Not tonight though, tonight too much had happened, too many thoughts were racing round his mind. He'd thought that if he torched the house he'd feel better, more like his old self, and he did feel a little satisfied, but he was facing a barrage of other emotions as well. If he was honest with himself, he wished that Sam had left him in that river, that he didn't have to deal with all this, but that would have been cheating, he could hold on, he could get passed the niggling desire for death and get on with the job again. He supposed he could talk to Sam, it had helped a little, he sure as hell didn't want to get all chick flicky, and he really didn't want his brother knowing how whiney and pathetic he'd become, but before he could think too much about it, the words were spilling from his lips.

Sam slept on as Dean leaked a little bit of his heart out (because Dean Winchester didn't frigging pour anything), he was fairly sure he'd said most of it to Sam last night, but he needed to say it again, and so he talked, he talked for a long time, told Sam everything he remembered, everything he felt, about his kidnapping, everything since then, the previous night's events, everything he could. He tried to tell Sam about how the pain felt, how the darkness threatened to consume him, about how scared he had felt, how scared he still felt, the dam burst and he was crying yet again, and then he told Sam about how he hated what he had become, and the fact that he kept freaking crying.

He told Sam all this while he slept, hoping he'd hear him, and understand that it was hard to say it to his face. He was so engrossed in his confession that he didn't notice fairly early on in his rant that Sam's breathing was not deep and slow any more, he didn't realise that while he confessed everything, that Sam was laying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to everything Dean was saying. He had no idea Sam was awake until he felt the bed sink down and Sam scooch close to him, put his arms around him and whisper softly that it was ok to cry, at which point Dean had let out something between a groan and a laugh, but at least it was better than crying, even if it was only brief.

Eventually the sobs dwindled out as his vision became hazy, his brain fuzzy with sleep, he tried to make a comment about how gay it was that he kept falling asleep after crying in his baby brother's arms, but it just came out a distorted mumble. He felt Sam start to pull away, leave him to his rest, his eyes flew open.

"Sam?"

"Yeah Dean?" Sam whispered softly

"Um... Can you stay? Just for tonight? Not in a gay way or anything" he added quickly "Just... don't want... be 'lone." His eyes were already slipping back shut as Sam relaxed back into bed, happy that Dean was willing to let him in, even if it wasn't for long.

Sam heard Dean's breathing even out, he always looked young when he was sleeping. Sam held the little boy that his brother never got to be.

"Don't worry Dean, I'll never leave you alone."

He felt Dean press closer to him, closed his eyes and let sleep drag him down to join his brother.

xxx

Thank you so much for reading, there's just a teeny little epilogue and then I'm done. I've never written anything this long before, so thank you for reading and all the fab reviews!


	7. Epilogue

Not sure how I feel about this last bit, it was suggested in a review and I really liked the idea, but I'm not sure I've written it right, please let me know, and thank you!

**Epilogue**

Sam awoke to sunlight streaming in through the window and Dean mumbling and thrashing beside him.

"Dean, wake up man." He nudged him gently and Dean woke with a start, blinking as if to reaffirm his arrival back into the waking world.

From that moment on, Dean kept up a steady stream of chatter, subjects ranging from, what their bacon used to be called before it had its throat slit and was tossed in a frying pan, to more suitable driving music, between AC/DC and Metallica, in his pretty much one sided conversation, AC/DC won, mainly because _well Metallica don't have Highway to Hell, do they Sammy?_

After doing his best to tolerate the one man radio that was Dean, Sam eventually called him on it, and instead of receiving some wise ass remark, Dean chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully and then blurted out.

"I want to go back."

Sam nearly, physically jumped a foot in the air in shock.

"Back? Dean man, I know you're still feeling bad, but it's gone, it's torched."

"What? No, not there, I want to go back and see her."

"Her? Who's... oh. Whoa, Dean I really don't think that's a good idea, I mean think about it, what if she's called the cops, and you might upset her."

"Sam, I need to do something about it, I can't just carry on, I need to talk to her, apologise."

"But...Dean you did try to rape her." He lowered his voice dramatically

Dean rolled his eyes "Yeah thanks for that, I know and that's why I need to apologise, have you not been paying attention?"

xxx

Dean swung the car door open and hurried over to the girl, he was fairly sure her name had begun with a C, or maybe it was a G, he really wasn't sure. She was walking towards the motel room, earphones in, oblivious to his approach.

"Excuse me, miss?" he touched her shoulder and she whirled round, eyes widening and mouth open to scream.

"No, wait," he held his hands up, trying to show her he didn't mean any harm "Please just let me explain."

"Explain?" she whipped her earphones out "You're a rapist, get away from me I'm calling the cops!"

"No, I'm not. Please if you'll just let me explain, we can stay out here, in full view, we could sit or... is that a taser?"

She nodded her head "Talk fast."

"Um..." this really wasn't going the way he intended it "I uh, just wanted to apologise. I... I never meant to hurt you, I know it doesn't make what I did any better, but I just want to let you know how sorry I am."

"How the hell would you know what it's like?"

"I was raped."

She looked incredulous "In Iraq?"

"Um...Yeah." _Sure, why the hell not._

"Oh." Her expression softened slightly, but she kept the taser at arm's length, ready to shock him if he tried anything.

"I uh... I guess I was just desperate to have sex again, to feel normal, you shouldn't have had to pay the price for that." He dropped his head "I'm so sorry."

She didn't respond, just stared at him, unmoving. Dean turned and headed back to the Impala and Sam.

"I didn't call the police."

He turned around; she'd dropped the taser slightly, but was still holding it out, protecting herself.

Dean nodded "Thank you. Now forget me. Forget everything that happened, it wasn't your fault, it was my own shit that you got caught up in, I'm sorry."

Dean slipped into the car as Sam turned the key in the ignition and took them away from the town, away from more bad memories.

"Did it help?"

"I don't know, but at least she might be able to move on."

"She'll be fine Dean."

"So will we Sammy."

Dean flicked his gaze to the wing mirror, watching the town roll away behind them, as the Impala took them far away, along dusty roads, where the days might get easier, but the memories and nightmares would always follow.

**The End**

I love you all for reading, and all the reviews, thank you so much for your time, I've had a blast I hope you have too!


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